Mahalo.

One of my least favorite of these already vomit-inducingly bad ads is the one that starts with a guy bouncing a paddle ball he apparently drew using his magic finger.  I honestly don’t remember the reason why, but he decides to draw a random ass door in the air.  Long story short, he and his buddy end up in an Old West-style saloon.  All of the surly bearded cowboys stand up and look vaguely menacing.

Bud Light dumbass 1: Draw another door.

Bud Light dumbass 2: Don’t say draw.

That’s just great.  I get the whole “draw” joke, ha ha.  Unfortunately, you said it again, dumbfuck, so if this was actually the Old West and not a feeble excuse for a television commercial, it’d be your ass that got smoked.  I’d like to film an alternate version of this ad, in which both assholes say “draw” to each other until they both get riddled with bullets dispensed from every Remington revolver in the entire bar.

The narrator then goes into his little pitch about “drinkability” and my blood pressure starts to return to normal.  But wait, those bastards want to make it spike just once more.  The camera cuts back to the saloon, where Mr. Magic Finger is sitting at a table, playing cards with the surly cowboys.  He lays down a hand of shittily-scribbled “cards.”

Bud Light dumbass: Seven aces.

He’s worried about getting killed when his buddy says “draw,” but he has no problem cheating blatantly at cards during an era when that was probably the easiest way to commit suicide?

There’s nothing I want more than to see that mouth breather shot right in the face.

Budweiser has produced some funny commercials in the past, but there’s no excuse for this drivel.

Let’s play a “What’s wrong with this picture?” game with this one.  Count how many distinct instances of stupidity occur within the ad and then be amazed at how these geniuses crammed so much into one 30-second spot.  

What’s wrong with this ad?!

1. “Does my pen have writeability?”   The whole “drinkability” marketing campaign is just plain awful.  They need to stop trying to squeeze funny out of it.  It ain’t working.
2. “We could cut back on marketing.”  Why, oh why, couldn’t they have cut back on marketing?  Then I wouldn’t have to suffer through this.  I feel my IQ dropping.
3. They’re drinking Bud Light.  At work.  In what appears to be the morning.  What a fucking surprise!  They’re having trouble meeting their budget!  I’m surprised they aren’t just peeing on the table and falling out of their chairs.
4. When the only guy who hasn’t been chugging fermented pisswater suggests they stop buying it in order to save money, he’s the one who gets thrown out a window.  No wonder Anheuser-Busch and other makers of poor-quality beer are trying to foster a culture that punishes intelligence: only an idiot would drink that shit.

It was an ad for men’s Speed Stick deodorant. Rather, it was an ad for three different varieties of men’s Speed Stick deodorant, each with its own SPECIAL PURPOSE. It went something like this:

Narrator: What’s your pit type?  Sweaty?

Sweaty guy: Did they really have to coat me in baby oil for this commercial?

Narrator: Hairy?

Hairy guy: Besides growing a beard on my face, I also grow one in my armpits.

Narrator: Sensitive?

Sensitive guy: I wear shirts with collars.

What kind of pit type am I? How about the type that doesn’t give a fuck about your cutesy marketing bullshit? I want the deodorant that makes my armpits smell the least like ass for the longest period of time.

Other than a complete dumbass, who the fuck could have come up with a concept as monumentally stupid as this?  Oh, right. It took a full team of complete dumbasses with the combined brainpower of George W. Bush’s left testicle to cough up such a piss-poor excuse for a simple toiletry product.

Am I to assume that each one of these three products only has the ability to handle one facet of the whole underarm dilemma? What if I have sweaty, hairy and sensitive armpits? Do I have to buy all three? Does the hairy armpit deodorant actually deodorize hair? Could I use it on my head? How about my cat? Anyway, as far as I know, if my armpits weren’t sweaty, I wouldn’t need deodorant in the first place. 

No wonder the world isn’t afraid of the United States anymore.

North Korea is testing nukes and we’re scratching our asses and trying to come up with the best compromise between deodorant that works on hair and deodorant that does what it’s supposed to.

And I thought deodorant names were bad enough. What the fuck does an “Aqua Reef” smell like? Salt water and excruciatingly painful death at the tentacles of an Australian blue-ringed octopus? And I can only assume the “After Hours” smell has something to do with dried semen and shame. Not something I want to be wiping on my body. If I ever get the chance to name a deodorant, I have a few ideas ready.

Suggested deodorant names:

1. Arctic Snow Flush Aqua Spring Breeze Glacier
2. Thunderous Aftermath
3. Unbridled Rage
4. Crushing Self-Doubt
5. Picked Last in Gym